


Shift, Change, Repeat

by FireflySong



Series: Pride Month Writing Prompt Challenge 2020 [9]
Category: Until Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Light Petting, Pining, Sharing Clothes, fingers combing through hair, how is hair combing not a tag???, not sexual i swear!, this is just awful fluff and pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-10
Updated: 2020-06-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:53:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24648271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FireflySong/pseuds/FireflySong
Summary: Chris and Ash have always been a little awkward around each other. But something's changed. Or rather, something's shifted between them.Written for Day 9: Pet of the Pride Month Writing Prompt Challenge over on tumblr.
Relationships: Ashley Brown & Chris Hartley, Ashley Brown/Chris Hartley
Series: Pride Month Writing Prompt Challenge 2020 [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1770988
Comments: 6
Kudos: 15





	Shift, Change, Repeat

**Author's Note:**

> in apology for casting the angst and horror that was seasons upon you all, hers some good old-fashioned, free-range, pure chrashley fluff and pining!
> 
> you can find me on tumblr at love-fireflysong if you feel so inclined!

Neither couldn’t place exactly when it all started. Or at least, when something changed between them. Really changed. They had always been more obvious about their affections then either would have liked, not that the other had ever noticed of course. Fond smiles when the other had said something even a little bit endearing. Longing looks when backs were turned. Touches and hugs that always tended to linger or last longer than what would have been appropriate for friends _who absolutely did not have a crush on each other_. 

Each day they spent together was a torture, a reminder that no matter what, there was no way that they felt the same way about each other. But it was always better then the alternative, feeling like a dagger was being shoved into their hearts every moment they were apart. So they endured, hoping in equal turns for either the feelings to fade (it didn’t) or for the other person to finally look their way (they always had).

And while they don’t know when things _changed_ , they can pin point the two singular moments when it _shifted_.

\-----------------------------------------

"Just use a pillow, Chris.”

“I would love to Ash, I really would. But I seem to recall that you stole all the pillows and are holding a monopoly on them right now.”

Chris wasn’t lying. He and Ashley were hanging out on the couch in his and Josh’s dorm room, and she had shoved every single pillow (all two of them) in the dorm behind her on the couch.

“It’s not my fault that your couch has the worst lumps I have ever felt before. And some how only on the back and arms of this thing. Seriously, how do you two sit on here?”

Chris poked at one of the said lumps as he regarded Ash with a flat look. “We don’t. Unlike you, Josh and I don’t read on the couch—”

“I have never once seen either of you read a book that wasn’t a comic.”

“Really not the point, Ash. Also, rude. You’re not wrong, but you’re also being very rude.”

From where she had curled herself up in the corner, legs tucked under her, Ashley stuck out her tongue at Chris. “I just don’t understand why you or Josh haven’t replaced the thing yet. It’s not like neither of you could afford it.”

Chris gave a short snort. “It’s not like _Josh_ couldn’t afford it. Do I look like I have a couple of hundred chilling for a couch? I barely have enough money to pay Josh when he gets back with the pizza. Anyway, it came with the dorm so it would be a big no-no if we tossed it.”

“Still don’t understand why Josh had to go to get the pizza in the first place.”

“The place doesn’t like to deliver on campus. Apparently a delivery driver got their car completely covered in spray paint or something when they had to deliver during frosh week a few years back.”

“...How much longer till he gets back with the pizza?”

As if knowing that he was being talked about, and honestly with Josh, it was entirely probable, Chris’s phone went off with a beep of an incoming text message. “Uh, hold on. He just texted.” Chris looked at the screen for a moment, and groaned. “Shit. He says that something happened at the restaurant and they managed to lose our pizza. Gave it to the wrong Josh W. apparently. So they’re making us a new one.” 

“Are you serious? Really?”

“Unfortunately. Wait. He’s sending something else.” Chris’s face lit up like a child on Christmas morning. “Oh fuck yeah!”

“What? What?! You can’t leave me hanging like that Chris!”

“He says that as an apology, the place is giving us a free order of garlic cheese breadsticks!”

“Ooooh. That _is_ good news.”

Chris nodded excitedly. “It’s gonna be another half-hour or so until they finish making it though.”

“That’s fine.” Ash shrugged, and then sighed happily. “It’s worth the wait for some of the cheesy garlic-y goodness coming our way. Plus, I’ll be able to finish another chapter or two of my book while we wait.”

“Gee thanks, Ash. Glad to know that you would rather read a book then spend your time with me.”

“Oh, Chris,” she smiled brightly and reached out to pat his leg comfortingly. “You’ve always known that.”

Chris narrowed his eyes. “Oh, I see how it is. Fine then, if that’s the way you want to play it...” Before he could think it through, or she could react, he flopped over onto his back and placed his head onto her lap.

“Chris! What the hell do you think you’re doing?!”

He shrugged as he shifted around a bit to make himself more comfortable. "You stole all the pillows to read your book, so I decided to do the same. You’re my pillow now.”

“Oh my god. You don’t even have a book.”

Chris waved his phone in front of her face. “Newsflash, I don’t need a book. Got all the things I could ever read right here. Twitter and facebook and tumblr and games all at my fingertips. God. Join the 21st century Ash.”

She didn’t say anything, just smacked him lightly in the forehead with her book.

“I don’t think pillows are supposed to fight back.”

“Then get off, dingus.”

“Too late, I’m comfortable now. And I don’t think pillows are supposed to talk either.”

Conversation between the two of them trailed off after that, Ash opening her book to where she had last left off with an long-suffering sigh, and Chris turning on his phone. Except, as he mindlessly scrolled through whatever social media app he had randomly clicked on, his mind was not on the phone. Not at all. Nope, his mind had suddenly realized that his head was in Ashley’s lap and it was all he could think about.

It shouldn’t be awkward though! Friends did stuff like this all the time, using each other for a pillow, right? At least, Josh certainly did. He was liable to sprawl across anyone’s unguarded lap if they weren’t careful. Hell, he had done it to Chris just this morning! But Josh didn’t have a huge, stupid crush on the person’s whose lap he was sprawled on (or at least, Chris didn’t think so?). But this was fine. It was normal and he could do this! He would not panic and turn into a blushing moron! Which was the mantra he kept up in his head, over and over to distract himself from the realization that she really did make a good pillow.

Which was why he didn’t notice that Ash’s fingers had been running through his hair for the last couple of minutes.

The moment he did though, Chris froze like a statue. His eyes slowly moving so he could look at her in the face. But her eyes were on her book, moving back and forth as she continued to read, flicking a page over one-handed with practiced ease. She had no idea what she was doing. Probably thought she was petting a cat or something. Yeah! He thinks he remembers her mentioning once or twice that one of her cats at home likes to curl up into her lap when she reads. So she probably just thought that she was petting her cat! That was a thing, right?

He catches her lick her lips when she flicks another page, and averts his eyes, face turning a shocking shade of pink. Only to completely forget _that_ when one of her nails lightly scrapes his scalp by accident and he sucks in a gasp between clenched teeth. It hadn’t been a gasp of pain though, no siree Bob, not at all! It was almost scary how intense the jolt of pleasure that shot up his spine was. He nervously chances another glance at Ash to make sure she hadn’t caught that, only to watch her wet her lips again and swallow. 

Chris can honestly say in this moment that stopping her is the last thing on his mind. In fact, if he were to make a list of all of the things going on in his mind right now, stopping her isn’t even on it.

So instead, he closes his eyes, phone long forgotten, and just centers on the feel of her fingers running methodically through his hair. On her nails catching every so often on his scalp to scrape at it. On the sound of her peaceful breathing. On the rustle of a page turning every so often in semi-regular intervals.

He decides that if Josh takes a little longer to bring the pizza, then that’s fine. Chris is more than happy to just stay here like this.

\---------------------------------------------------------------

She really hoped that one of them was home. Really, really hoped as she banged on the door to the boy’s dorm with her fist. She was ready to admit that maybe she should have texted them first, but well, today just really hadn’t been her day so far.

Finally, _finally_ , she heard movement on the other side of the door.

“I’m coming, I’m coming! Hold your goddamn horses!”

Chris. Part of Ash was really, really glad that it was Chris. Another, just as large, part was really, really _bummed_ that it was Chris.

Yup, it really wasn’t her day. She continued to bang in hope that it would get him to the door faster anyway.

“Holy fuck, I said I was coming! If this is you Brian, then I swear to God—” the door swings open inward and Ash gives a bashful smile. “—Jesus H Christ Ash! What the hell happened to you?!”

She knows that she’s a sight. Dripping wet and covered in mud, and dripping all of this onto their entryway. She sneezes and smiles weakly.

“Hey Chris. Mind if I steal your shower?”

Chris doesn’t even answer her, pulling her into the dorm room and yelling over his shoulder towards the bathroom. “Josh! I need you to get your ass out of the shower! Now!”

She makes out Josh’s voice muffled through the shower and the door separating them. “What the hell, dude! I just got in here!”

“Don’t give a shit! Ash needs it more!” Chris moves to grab her unsurprisingly also soaked school bag and begins to hurriedly remove her thankfully still dry textbooks and binders from within. He places them carefully on the nearby table and she finds herself falling further in love with him all the more for it.

“Ash? What’s she doing here? Doesn’t she have her own shower? She can go home and use that one! This one’s got my name all over it for at _least_ the next twenty minutes!”

Cold and miserable and soaked to the bone, Ashley finds she just doesn’t care anymore. “Joshua Washington! You get your goddamn ass out of that shower in the next five minutes or I swear to God I will rip you out of there myself!” She catches Chris staring at her in a mix of fear, awe, and something else she can’t quite place but makes her stand just a little taller despite the fact she’s shivering and literally looks like a drowned rat creating a puddle the size of Moscow on his floor. 

There’s a stumble and what may be the sound of a bottle dropping onto the shower floor. “I’m moving, I’m moving! Fucking hell, can’t a guy even shower in peace anymore?”

To his credit, Josh is only in the shower another two or so minutes, and when he opens the bathroom door with nothing but a towel around his waist he stops to stare at her stunned. “Holy Hannibal. What happened to you?”

Ash growls as she pushes past Josh (or would have, if he hadn’t jumped out of the way to escape her mud covered... _everything_ ) and into the sanctum of the bathroom, already dreaming of the hot water on her skin. “I’ll tell you after. Shower first, story second.” With that, she slams the door behind her.

She’s also ready to admit that she spends an altogether too long amount of time in the shower. But she’s covered in mud and cold so really, who can blame her? She also spends a far longer amount of time staring at the bottle of body wash that she _knows_ is Chris’s as she debates whether to use it or not, but she’s less likely to admit that one.

Finished, her skin and hair no longer a muddy brown, but the usual pasty white and dull auburn respectively, Ash feels better then she has in hours. Refreshed and ready to take on the world, or at least the asshole in the Chevy. A hesitant knock at the bathroom door startles her, and with a grey and green striped towel wrapped around her, she opens the door a crack and stares out into Chris’s face, eyes upturned and face pink as he resolutely does not look at her but at a dark stain she knows is just above the doorway. Before she can say a word, Chris shoves an old grocery bag at her and a set of dry clothes.

“Here. Put your clothes into the bag and I’ll throw them in the washer downstairs.”

Ash feels her face redden to match his and reaches out to carefully grab the bag and clothes (where did he manage to find some clothes for her?). “Just give me a sec.” Keeping the door open just a crack, she starts shoving her sopping wet and muddy clothes into the bag and hands it to Chris. “I don’t have my wallet, sorry. Forgot it in the English building earlier.” 

“It’s fine. We’ll figure something out.” With that, Chris grabs the bag and turns to walk stiffly away, probably to go and search for some change she assumes. She can’t help the stupidly fond smile that comes to her face as she closes the bathroom door and starts to get changed. Only for the smile to drop when she realizes that the clothes she’s holding is a pair of dark blue sweats with a waist cord and sleep shirt of Chris’s that she is able to recognize on sight, an old grey number with the classic PlayStation logo he had found in a game store years ago. Oh. 

She spends a moment to debate even putting on the clothes, but realizes that her choices are either a: walk around the dorm in a towel in front of Chris (nope, not happening), b: confine herself to the bathroom until her clothes are clean (at least an hour’s wait, not ideal), or c: wear his clothes (towel is starting to look like a more attractive prospect honestly).

Feeling like her entire body is blushing, she puts on the shirt and pants, thanking the heavens that her underwear had managed to survive her unexpected bath relatively dry. The shirt is almost comically large on her, the collar keeps slipping to showcase one shoulder bare of any bra strap (her underwear may have survived, by the bra unfortunately did not), and the sweats she has to roll up at least five times so she won’t trip and break her neck. As she tightens the cord around her waist as much as she can, Ash stares at herself in the still foggy bathroom mirror, face as red as her hair and wearing her best friend/major crush’s clothes. 

She is suddenly really relieved that she opted not to use the body wash now. Wearing his clothes _and_ smelling like him? She probably would have self-combusted on the spot. If she lifts up the shirt collar to smell it anyways, well, she's taking that secret to the _grave_.

Grabbing an extra towel on the rack, she takes a deep breath for courage and opens the door of the bathroom. She notices Chris’s back as he’s standing in front of the microwave and hurriedly starts to towel dry her hair as a way to hide her burning face.

“I’m making you some hot chocolate if you’re okay with that. Figured that you might want some.”

She sighs happily at that. “You figured right. Hot chocolate sounds like heaven right now.” She takes a moment to realize that someone is missing. “Where did Josh vanish off to?”

“He’s digging in the car for some spare change for the laundry room, should be back up in a—” he turns around and starts choking on nothing.

“You okay?”

Still coughing and face just as red as hers, he wave a hand though his voice is strained when he speaks, or really, wheezes. “Fine, I’m fine! Just-just dust, you know? Really should dust more often.”

Ashley tilts her head to look at him in confusion. “I guess?”

“Yup. Just dust. Go and sit down on the couch, I’ll bring you the hot chocolate when it finishes.” His voice is still strained when he waves her towards their lumpy couch.

She sits on it, and abandons the towel to run her fingers through her hair to try and break up knots and get some degree of neatness without a brush. Barely a minute later, Chris walks over and hands her the mug of cocoa. Somehow, they manage to get the mug to exchange hands without their fingers brushing. Good, she’s already obvious enough with how red her face still is.

Slowly, Chris sits next to her on the couch, his fingers tapping a beat on his knees. “Why were you using your fingers?”

Ash blows on the mug, hoping that she can claim the steam as an excuse for her face. “Forgot my brush in the English Building, too.”

“Oh. Um.” she watches Chris take a deep breath, his hands now digging into the fabric of his jeans, holding on as if his life depended on it. “I-I can help with that?”

Ash blinks, not quite understanding where he’s going with this. “I mean, sure?”

To her absolute shock, instead of just leaving to go and grab her stuff from the English Building like she expected, or even just grabbing his own comb, he starts to comb his fingers through her hair. The only reason she doesn’t drop the mug in shock is because she immediately tenses at the contact and just grips onto it harder.

For a moment, both are silent, nothing but the sound of Chris running his fingers through her still damp hair, breaking tangles and knots as gently as he can. It’s all she can do to stop from flinching when his hand reaches the bottom of her hair and brushes her bared shoulder.

“So,” Chris’s voice is high-pitched and strained as he speaks, “what happened?”

“What?” Unfortunately, hers is just as strained and somehow pitched higher then his.

“You came here looking like you decided to take a walk through a hurricane, but it’s not even raining outside. What the hell happened to you?”

“Oh. That.” Hands shaking and face burning, Ash struggles to take a sip of the hot chocolate without dumping it on herself in the process. His fingers running through her hair is entirely too distracting but she can’t bring herself to make him stop. “You know that huge puddle by the library? I was walking by it to get back to the English Building when some dick in a Chevy decided to drive right through it and soak me. I only came here because your shower was closer.”

“Are you serious? What a fucking asshole. Why didn’t you text though? I would have picked you up at the library and brought you to the campus.”

“Yeah, well, unfortunately I left my phone in the English Building too, I was in such a hurry to leave and study, that I managed to forget an entire bag there.”

Chris gave a short, quiet laugh behind her. “Just not the one with the books of course.” His fingers catch on a particularly large tangle and her breath catches. She can hear him suck a breath in behind her. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s fine. Don’t be sorry.” It is. It’s really, really fine. She kinds wants him to do it again, and her face somehow burns hotter at the the thought.

“Okay, If your sure.” He continues with with calming motion, conversation done as she just closes her eyes and decides to fully enjoy and embrace what will never _ever_ happen again. Until that is, he accidentally scratches his fingernail along the back of her neck, the blunt edge scraping the skin slightly as it runs down. 

She can’t help the gasp that leaves her as it happens, her back arching a bit at the sensation. She turns around and looks at Chris, knowing that there is no explaining away her reaction just now. Both their eyes are wide and and they’re breathing far too heavily considering all they've been doing is sitting on the couch.

Behind them, the front door slams open and they spring apart. “Hey Cochise! You got another twenty-five cents hidden around somewhere? We’re short a fucking quarter to run the dryer!”

\--------------------------------------------------------

So yeah. While they don’t know when things changed. They sure as hell know when they shifted.


End file.
